


Strip control

by kdlovehgk



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Babies, CCTV, F/M, I ran out of time, Love, airport, mores2sl, strip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9279245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kdlovehgk/pseuds/kdlovehgk
Summary: When Peeta's son plants contraband in his father's pocket, he's ordered for strip control. The only problem; no men are available, leaving Katniss to complete her job initiation in the best possible way. Allowing Katniss to find pleasure in what awaits her at the end of her shift. Or maybe it's just the man who's passing through.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So heads up, I ran out of time so three weeks of writing turned into one day and based on this it's probably not a T rating. Also I wanted to edit it but right know I've been having breathing issues for two days so don't blame me. Hope someone enjoys. Posted for #Mores2sl Fall 2016.

Katniss pov

I'll be fired if I can't cover up these damn bite marks for initiation. Although I love him, he can be a real animal sometimes.

Scowling at the thought of how he acted last night I scrape and dab at the thin layer of foundation with my finger before patting the powder onto the crimson skin of my neck and wrists. It barely makes a difference. I harshly rub the powder as if it'll be absorbed by my skin in an attempt to add further coverage of his markings.

"Everdeen, get up! Break's over sweetheart so put the junk down" Haymitch calls as he watches me through the glass window in his office, his feet kicked up on his desk whilst he barks orders to some other unfortunate colleague over the intercom.

With a huff I slam the lid back on the small metal case and shove it back into Johanna's duffel bag. At least it wasn't Commander Coin who saw me. I doubt she'd be as lenient.

Rising from my crouched position I stroll past a few colleagues working at baggage claim.

How did he even see me? I was hidden by the hundreds of bags and luggage cases that pass through on the conveyor belt.

His voice answers my unspoken question. "I'm not blind. I got 15 years worth of experience on you sweetheart".

"I can tell" I mumble, smirking slightly as he squints in an attempt to read my lips.

"Move it" he shouts "Your at the cornucopia".

I give him a curt nod as I walk through the double doors into the lounge area for passengers. Voices ring out from every direction as children zoom through the rows of chairs to sneak into the pop-up shops.

The air reeks of Bo and desperation from sleeping fathers to those buying last minute treats before boarding, because forbid any child board the plane when they don't have a sugar rush.

Apparently initiation involves fulfilling a number of roles here and the cornucopia is the worst. A vast zone sectioned off for security procedures and passport control with face recognition. The most obvious are the collection of metal detectors and x-ray machines.

"Hey" my colleague calls taping at her keyboard as I approach the metal detectors.

"Johanna" I reply. "Where's-?".

"Cato? The brute left early. Apparently his girlfriend's gone into labour." My nose crinkles at the thought.

"Oh" I mummer, adjusting my ID tag so that it lays on top of my blue blouse.

She huffs as I begin to wave through the string of passengers, one by one, through the metal detector.

"You know, you could be on time for your shift for once." She taps again at her keyboard and nods to a young women, allowing her to take her backpack from the tray, whilst a continuous stream of bags and phones are scanned through the x-ray machine. "Or just quit riling Effie up. I'm pretty sure her trinkets are lightening up from some sixth sense already. Woman probably has enough energy to run this place. She acts like there's a hole in the runway or something."

"Yeah well hopefully there won't be a diversion next time" I say scowling at the visible marks. I tug my sleeves down further.

The sign above the security station lights up. The neon words, bright and clear. Too bright for 1am.

Welcome to Panem Regal. We hope you enjoy flying with us today. From all of us here at Panem headquarters, we wish you a safe and pleasant journey and may the odds be ever in your favor.

I sigh and usher another person through.

Panem regal. The only airport to have a continuation of flights for a 24 hour service. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't crowded with screaming children and young adolescents ready to fly away to their dream destination - or at least a cheaper alternative; when any sane person would be sleeping.

This airport is perfect for people passing through, unlike myself. I've already been working a shift for three hours and it doesn't end till 4am. Yet, even when it's over, I can't rest because I have to get home to pack for my own flight before boarding a plane at 7:30am. Not to mention, it's technically a triple shift if you include the employee training and babysitting your sister's pet. Lovely.

I tug my collar up higher.

My voice recites the scripted information from training as if reading off a teleprompter, "Please walk through slowly, arms by your side. Thank you, feel free to take your possessions".

"Nice body".

"Johanna" I hiss, glaring at her, "Quit looking at the passengers".

"Relax, I'm just complimenting them", she replies shoving me slightly. "Walk slowly Madam" she calls out before turning back to face me. She runs a hand through her brown, spiky hair and shrugs out of her black blazer. "Besides every job has some perks to them, just in the form of-".

I jerk her forward by her arm. "Stop it. Its hard enough doing this without adding harassment charges to the list."

She smirks and tears her arm from my hold. The blazer gets shoved under the table. "Your such a prude, Everdeen and feel free to take it personally".

I scowl. "Brainless back to work!".

* * *

 

My eyes are beginning to burn from staring at the small blinking light on the metal detectors. I'm standing next to Johanna observing the passengers.

Green.

Green.

Green.

Gre-red. What stupid fu-.

He holds my gaze.

From the corner of my eye I can see Johanna open her mouth. The beeping sound cuts her off. I whip my head around to the source of the noise. The alarms only intercepted by the quiet hiccups of a young babe.

Restless.

Small.

Perfect.

Large hands cradle the head as the delicate body rises slightly with each noise.

I drag my gaze up the forearms that support the tiny body before chancing a look at the owner. A young man, most likely in his twenties gently sways in time with the noises. The infant resting on his chest. Eyes closed. Small mouth open against his broad shoulders, as though the babe was hungry. Her mouth posed as if she were mid-nibble of her daddy's shoulder.

His smile offers an apology before I can even say a word. Yet his eyes-

"Hey Brainless, you got a job to do right?" Johanna shouts, interrupting my thoughts.

Damn that woman.

"Er, yeah, i'll just, okay". I nod and circle round the table. My hands suddenly twitch as I approach him.

Closer.

So nervous.

He's warm.

Arms outstretched.

Touching me.

A throat clears. My eyes snap to wear his heat is pressed against me. His palm encasing my waist. Delicately, soft almost, yet rough. A secret claim to which I am his everlasting offering. Take me now. Take me now. Take me.

"Please don't touch me s-sir it-its not appropriate" I stutter stepping out of his grasp. I try to ignore the look of hurt shining in his eyes as they darken slightly. He becomes closed off, visibly, with a mask of indifference. I wear my own.

"Sorry" he mummers "you were about to knock over my son."

My eyelashes flutter as I blink repeatedly. Son. This man's son. He's definitely a father. I doubt I'll ever grow used to hearing that word in relation to any man. Not to mention he's visibly young and so are the children. An early father in a young man. That's not something you see often. Well unless there's the clingy girlfriend wrapped on the males arm or a single father who wants the mother of their child to pay for child support - or in most cases, child minding in school.

My hands clench into fists, tightening and loosening every few moments as I try to use up some of my energy. My thoughts forced into order. I need to focus. I need this job. They need the money.

I shake my head, straighten to my full 5'6" and hold my hands out. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. Eyes locked onto my palms.

"Sorry officer, it must be my belt. I'll take it off."

"Give me your baby" I demand.

"What?" he questions. His hold tightens slightly, careful not to injure the baby. I step aside to let a co-worker past so that they can usher the endless line of passengers through another detector. I try not to scowl at the glares aimed my way. No respect given, no respect gotten.

"You set the alarms off so I'm following protocol" I answer, fixing a stern look on my face. "Any prevention from allowing me to do my job can result in an immediate fine and I'll have to take you down to the office".

"I'm good with that" he replies with a smirk.

My eyes taper to slits. Again. I speak slowly, "I have to take your child through the body scanner again to make sure that there's nothing concealed on her person". I try to conceal my hate for this part of the job with a forced smile in case Coin passes through.

"Oh" he slowly loosens his grip eying Johanna carefully. I don't dare look at her. Who knows what sadistic expression she's making - at my pain, at his humiliation. Although he doesn't seem all that bothered, just cautious. He should be. The child is cute and despite my personal knowledge of why I wouldn't have kids myself, I can understand an instant connection. Maybe it's the size of children or the look of innocence but they always seem to present a small kindling of hope, well some of them at least. But this is something I've already come to terms with, and after all, I've never been very good at keeping promises.

"You can let go" I say as he begins passing her to me.

"I can't" he whispers staring at her head, "I don't wanna".

"I'll look after her sir, it'll only be for a moment".

"Okay, I'm not sure why but... you know she's only four months old though so she may like wake up and bite you" he says nervously as I lift her out of his hands.

I adjust my grasp on her and hold her small, frail body in my arms. Her head rests gently on my shoulder as she nuzzles her pert nose against my blue jacket. Her small body in my stiff arms feels usually... natural. Though this wouldn't be the first time. I shake away the feeling, nod towards the man and circle back through the metal detector. Once through I glance at Johanna.

No noise.

No alarms.

Dammit.

That leaves only one person.

With a curt nod she glances back down at the computer screen and reaches under the table, her hand retrieving something from a pocket before she tosses her blazer back onto the floor.

Quickly I return to the man who's fidgeting. Body swaying slightly. He straightens as I hold his daughter out to him. "She's all clear" I say glancing at his T-shirt, partly covered by a black coat that appears to be sown onto the material. A small wet patch from the girl's dribble stains the shirt making it slightly see through. It offers a glimpse of hard muscle. They were a typical father and daughter, both teases.

He nods gratefully and wraps one arm around her neck and back, supporting her head in the crook of his elbow. His other hand gently tugs the cotton hat over her ears - slightly red from the brisk winter. She doesn't stir, but the babe's sleepy form curled up on her father replicates how she must've looked as a newborn. Like she'd somehow frozen her first few minutes alive, frozen time and just chose to live in it forever.

Sighing I spin around and take the slim wand from Johanna. It's similar to the detectors but hones in on the exact area where a weapon may be concealed. If found the constant beeping will speed up and the wand will light up.

"Okay" I say and the man's eyes flick up to mine. "Do you mind spreading your legs slightly? Then could you stand still? Perfect". With a flick on the switch, the wand turns on and the noise starts up. I hold it a few centimetres from his arm and gradually move it down, near his waist. The noise stops.

"What?" I mummer. I switch it on and off. The noise starts up. The noise cuts off. "For goodness sake" I tap the wand against my hand, gradually smacking it harder.

Johanna's laughs break's through the silence, "You broke the wand brainless. No men are safe". I glare at her trying to ignore the slight heat I feel warming my cheeks. Harassment or verbal offences. Check.

"So sir coul-".

"Peeta" he interrupts, "Peeta Mellark. What's my name?".

I glance at him, "Excuse me?".

"What's my name?". His eyes shine with mirth.

I huff, "Your creating a diversion, besides, you just said it". Your wasting my time.

"Humour me. Please" he beseeches.

"Peeta dear?" I ask sickeningly, my smile tainted with false sweetness. I'm disingenuous, he's not. The happiness he displays is real. A few looks are thrown my way by passing members of security.

He needs to tone it down.

His lips spread into a smile, "Yes-" he cuts himself off, eyes darting down. Lower. Lower. But their not on me. They're on a little boy, who's tugging at his shirt.

A familiar mess of blonde curls falling into gorgeous crystal eyes. Cheeks rounded with baby fat and cuddling the small mouth between them, now formed into a smile. Skin the colour of rye bread.

Beautiful.

Innocent.

Perfect.

I sense a theme between the man and his children. Radiance and beauty in nature, something this drab building sorely needs.

"Da-daddy when are we going on the flying plane?" the boy whispers, clutching his father's shirt in one hand and a cuddly toy airplane in the other.

"After daddy deals with business bud".

"What business Mellark? Just let me do my job", I sigh exasperated.

"Well you are a piece of work" he replies.

"Oh so your gonna do me-sue me?" I correct loudly. My voice catching, stomach clenching slightly in an unusual way. Toes curling. Eyes suddenly riveted to his tongue as it glides along his lower lip before being bit gently by his teeth.

I pray he hasn't heard me but judging by his pink cheeks, which must surely be matching mine, I know he has and he's not the only one. The only thing that would've made this worse would be for him to be looking at me, much like Jo probably is.

So 'doing' me is a touchy subject. In public at least.

This is why I don't talk often. I was never good with words.

"Are we gonna go up?" the boy asks, saving me from further embarrassment.

Peeta nods seemingly unfazed apart from the way he purposefully evades my eyes. Trying to distance himself from me in such an open setting. He hums slightly in agreement, "mm-hmm up, up, up".

"Oh", the infant hugs the toy close to his face, snuggling his cheek against the plush toy. "That's high".

"Yep, that's thousands of feet!" Peeta states, putting emphasis on each word to keep the interest of his son.

The boy's reply is timid, "I have two feet" he whispers as he scuffs his shoes on the floorboard. He glances at me, eyes lighting up, and hops forward. His small hand reaching for mine.

I flinch away. Though perhaps I shouldn't.

His noses scrunches up, twitching with restrained emotion. Eyes begin to dim as tears surface and his face trembles. The small smile contorts itself into a look of utter confusion and hurt, too young to understand. Both hands reach out. I push them away.

Peeta's arm slides between us as he tugs the boy to his side. Instantly he buries his face in the bottom of his father's shirt and gently shakes. Tiny whimpers echo through the silence.

"Why" he gasps. "Why" he hiccups. "W-won't m-", Peeta tugs him closer and ruffles his son's hair as though it would sooth him.

"Hey now, it's alright bud" he says pitifully.

"Sorry" I mummer feeling awkward under the scrutiny of

"No don't worry about it. He gets himself worked up sometimes".

I nod. "When can we go? I wanna go daddy" the boy asks, his voice muffled as he nuzzles his face into Peeta's trouser leg. The bottom of the shirt already near-soaked with tears.

He runs his hand through the boy's hair again, "Soon bud". He glances up at me hopefully. For what though? Clarification?

"I" I hesitate, "I just need you to step into the full body scanner for a moment. My colleague" - not friend after today based on her wandering eyes - "will just scan your body so we have a rough idea of if you really have any item and where it may be located". I motion to the body scanner and open my arms so that I can hold his daughter. His son choosing to stand a few feet away from me, stepping forward, stepping back. Repeating.

Peeta passes her to me and steps into the machine before listening to Johanna list off the security rules. No shoes, liquids, cigarettes, empty pockets and lift your arms up. When done collect all items from the tray. I focus my attention on the babe as she squirms and gurgles nonsense whilst I tighten my grip on the wand so I don't drop it. She waves up at me with one fist, her arm shaking as though she was playing with a rattle. A smile teases my lips. In the corner of my eye I can see the lights on the edges machine fade from a bright yellow into a soft orange and then a passionate red, all before blinking off. Only Johanna knows whether he's a threat or not.

"Hey!" he calls and I glance over to see him kneeling as he finishes double knotting his laces. He lifts his head up, hair falling into his eyes and gives me a smile. One so different to the rest. A smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that an unexpected warmth rushes through me. Fast and fleeting, leaving me alone in comfort. A kind so costly I'd never be able to afford it. This appreciation and admiration he seems to give away to me. He shouldn't though. I've always felt greedy in regards to things I care about. I want more. Need more.

"What's going on over there? Having lunch without me?" he jokes, pushing off of his knee to come collect his daughter. My eyebrows furrow in confusion, what-? My head jolts to the side, a sharp pain taking root in my scalp. I peer down into bright blue eyes full of mischief and happiness and hiss in pain. Her pudgy fist tightens unknowingly. Another yank at my hair. She moves it towards her mouth and only then do I notice the dribble at the ends of my hair, the strands of which she's pulled from my updo. She could be tugging at it for I care but it feels like she's ripping clumps of my hair out strand by strand. She crams more hair into her mouth.

"She's eating your hair" he states.

"Yeah I would too" I answer trying to lighten the mood, "It looks good". I don't mention the gentle throbbing on the area where she decided to rip my hair from my scalp.

"Mind if I try?" he replies jokingly as I hand her over to him. I scoff.

"So what did Miss Mason tell you to do?" I ask.

"Oh!" he visibly brightens up further if that's even possible, "She said you would take me for a strip search".

"Of course she did" I mummer. I hold up a finger indicating that he should wait a moment before walking over to Jo who seems to be smirking at her screen.

I slam the wand down onto the table, flinching at the noise. "Firstly, whatever your looking at turn it off. There's a no perving on the passenger's rule".

"Well I bet he takes you high flying every night" Jo retorts. "You were looking cosy over there officer".

I dismiss her comment with a glare. "Shut it Mason. What did you tell him?" I demand.

She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's strip control Everdeen. He flagged up. It's something near his crotch" she winks. "Enjoy the job Everdeen, you've earned it".

Cursing under my breath, I spin around and instruct Peeta to follow me with his children. I take him down a narrow, bare hallway and guide him into a private room. In the corner sits an old computer upon a white table, connected to a monitor for the airport's CCTV and a thin sheet hangs from the ceiling. A curtain perhaps, not that there's any use for it. Leaving him in the room, I bang on the door next to mine. It doesn't open. I pull it open and peek inside.

"Hey!" I whisper trying to gain the attention of the man so similar to myself. His grey eyes lock on mine and he waves me in.

"What's up?" he asks as he scribbles notes onto a clipboard.

"Gale do you think you could umm help me out?". He raises an eyebrow. His hand stops moving.

"With what?".

"A-A strip search. Not for me though! For a passenger" I explain, shifting on my feet. A grunt rings out in the room.

"Can't you do it?" he asks

A curtain similar to the one in my room sways and below it I can see two feet. So we're not alone. I lower my voice and complain, "But he's a man".

"Not used to them hey?". I scowl

"Sorry Catnip" he replies, "I'm busy with Thread". Of course. A constant drug dealer against a man who may have a small weapon which can't even be that dangerous or he would have used it. He won't be done for a while.

"Right", I roll my eyes "Thanks **officer** Hawthorne". Quickly exiting the room I return to see Peeta speaking to his children, or at least the one who can understand.

I clear my throat. "Sorry, this must be a huge inconvinience".

Peeta glances at me, eyes darkening slightly "Not anymore".

"Well if you don't mind, I'll need your children to leave to conduct the strip search".

He nods toward the sheet, "Can they wait behind-?".

I nod. He ushers his children behind the sheet and passes his daughter to the young boy who's dressed in pyjamas.

"Can he hold her?" I ask cautious that he might drop her.

"He's done it before" he replies.

"So what do you want me to do officer...?".

"Everdeen" I answer. My hands begin to clench into fists. Again.

"Right, Everdeen. So I should?".

"Strip".

"Excuse me?" he flinches at my brazen reply. Or at least I hope it sounded brazen.

"I'm not asking again". I evade his eyes. He begins to fiddle with his clothes, visibly becoming uncomfortable.

"But there's three cameras" he whispers, all confidence gone, replaced by nervousness.

"Good".

Our eyes widen simultaneously as I stutter to correct myself, "I meant we need protection".

His eyebrows raise further as my cheeks burn hotter.

"Security!" I correct and cover my face with my palms, murmuring curses to myself. "Just get naked" I beg.

"Why?" he asks his voice hinting at mischief. I raise my head.

"Don't make me arrest you".

"But-".

I interrupt by easing my gun from its holster. His eyes widen. I guess he didn't notice it from earlier. "Mellark dammit! I believe I told you to get naked". His gaze darkens slightly, "and that's a demand".

Smirking he begins undressing and I glance away naturally. "You know I don't care if you see me" he states tugging at his zipper.

"Hurry up and out of those pants Peeta" I reply.

"Why am I here anyway? I wouldn't do this to you".

"Well I'm not dumb enough to carry an offensive weapon" I snap.

"Well your an offence".

I don't know who's fault it is or why it went on as long as it should but one minute we're talking, the next I'm rolled beneath him on the floor. His mouth covering mine and peppering kisses over all my exposed skin. Warm lips overpowering mine. A shudder runs through me. A delicious release of tension.

A bang resounds. I shove him aside, blind to his near-black eyes consumed by hunger and red lips.

"Put your pants on!" I shout, scrambling to my feet. My panting so loud I fear I could be having a panic attack.

"I can't" he shouts gesturing around. He goes quiet.

"Hey officer?" he asks. His eyes glinting with challenge and I play along, after all, there are worse games to play.

"What?" I ask tense.

"I'm stuck". I glare at his crotch before he speaks up.

"Well that's just rude". His eyes flick to my lips, "help please?". I collapse against him searching for his lips. When the children call out we don't stop. They'd understand. We go further. Shaking words and secret cries. Undressing and awaiting to see, hold, taste perfection. Lips and teeth clashing and limbs entangling on the floor. Screw work. Screw strips. Screw me.

I better burn those videos.

* * *

 

I wake up in the dark, only the shadows around the room watching over me. The curtains sway slightly as they let in the chill from tonight's breeze. Yet there he lays. 4am. In the exact same position as he went to sleep. A large distance separates us, kept respectable by Peeta. Always doing as I ask. The space left could fit another body. I scowl.

The cold seems to freeze me as I feel the gentle heat emitting from his body, travelling to mine and leaving a tingling sensation on my skin. I tug the thin blanket up higher. Nothing. No extra heat. I can still feel his though. Warm and tempting. So very tempting. Just begging me to react.

I do.

Making sure his eyes are closed, I swallow my pride and wriggle closer, careful not to disturb him. With the night as my witness, I gently lift his arms away from his chest so I can lay on him, before I wrap them around my waist. I hook one leg over his and rest my head in the crook of his neck. The gentle flutter of his pulse and his calm breaths urge me to join him.

Surrender.

Always.

I do; only then do I fall asleep.

24 hours pass.

"Tell me" he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear. "I believe you've been keeping a secret".

"Well I am a good actress" I reply breathlessly as I tighten my arms around her, cuddling her closer to me.

He laughs, husky and carefree. Jobs are over, night has settled, freedom is upon us.

After the fiasco at the airport which ended us showing a small butterknife accidentally placed in his pocket by his son, Peeta ended up missing his plane and having to reschedule onto mine. Unfortunately though, the plane was cancelled due to an incoming storm and we we're forced to rest at a local hotel. He was there of course, so with what little money we had, we booked a room for all four of us. I was hesitant to share a bed based on the rumours I heard growing up about bad luck but Peeta promised to keep his distance and of course the damn man followed through with it. Now he wants answers.

"Why were you there?" I ask.

"You made me miss my flight".

"Well don't be cheeky next time" I mummer resting my head on the pillow.

"Well don't flirt with me".

"What! I wasn't-".

"Shh" he whispers pressing his finger against my lips. I try to bite it. He laughs. His finger glides down past my lower lip to my chin. He turns me towards him, tilts my chin up and kisses me gently before slowly moving to press his lips against each of my cheeks. His heat captures me, sears me, burns me through. I blush. I grow hotter. It never ends. I close my eyes tight as he faintly blows onto my eyelids. The delicate breeze soothing the heat I possess. He chuckles. I open my eyes.

"Don't try to hide it" he winks, "I know the feeling".

I scowl a smirk teasing my lips.

He gently presses his lips against the marks on my neck from the other day.

"Did you cuddle me in my sleep?" he asks peering over my shoulder to glance at the sleeping girl. Careful not to disturb her, he reaches around me to stroke her cheek. She snores softly.

"It was real-ish" I reply as I feel his lips smile against my neck. The sunset fades away and night comes.

Our son sleeps opposite us in his crib. The same one we're due to replace this month, and I lie in bed sacrificing myself to the comforting sleep I've craved for so long. As we lie close together, arms wrapped deliciously and lovingly around each other, I offer the night one final smile. To say thanks: for the boy, a young babe, a man, a woman and a white gown.

 


End file.
